


Heart of Gold

by Elf_Of_Mischief



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: #F/M, #Monsters, #PostWitcher, #Witcherstory, #aftertheseries, #ciri, #futurestory, #magic, #thewhitewolf, #thewitcher, #witcherOC, #witchershow, Adventure, F/M, Netflixwitcher, Romance, TheWitcher, Witcherseries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elf_Of_Mischief/pseuds/Elf_Of_Mischief
Summary: Weary of the world, yet reluctant to leave as others have before him, Geralt of Rivia roams as he once did, hunting monsters. When a black hearted queen seizes power, overthrowing the balance of peace within the kingdom of Verden, the Witcher is sent on a quest; hunt down the one with a heart of gold, and take back the crown.A Witcher twist on the tale of Snow White.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

_ **~ A Note from your Writer ~** _

Welcome to something different for me, Heart of Gold, a Witcher Story.

My fingers were simply itching to weave some words in this incredible fantasy world, after watching the overnight sensation which is Netflix's The Witcher.

Before we get started, I first want to note I claim no ownership of the original books, Netflix adaption, or video game adaptions.

This work is not cannon, taking elements from all of the above, including some of my own. Witcher Wiki has been my second home the past two days!

Heart of Gold is based after the events of the books, tv series, and I believe the games, with a Snow White and the Huntsmen vibe twist.

Enjoy at your free will.

A xx

* * *

**Prelude**

_Here we begin in the year of 1326._

_Nilfgaard has been defeated in the second war, and a peace treaty between Cintra's neighboring Kingdoms has been in place fifty-eight years, creating a sense of safety._

_The small kingdom of Verden has been rebuilt; a harmonious home to both human and elf kind, ruled by a gold hearted king._

_However, the King's daughter, Crown Princess Fallon, holds a black heart; withered by her mother's death and the disregard of a father who cannot love her._

_When a sear's warning goes unheeded,_

_the sun will be snuffed from the land,_

_and a kingdom will fall into darkness,_

_To await the heart of gold's hand,_

_and the white wolf's catharsis._


	2. Chapter One

** _~ Eliana ~_ **

Pale sunlight sliced through the darkness, the mould dusted blanket cover ripped so swiftly away, I flinched from its whip-like crack. My spine collided with the ice-chilled iron caging me.

After the dank and dark, the world was bright, too bright. My eyes stung. I blinked once, twice, the cacophony of rowdy noise materialising into a milling crowd of men and woman. Mostly men.

Mud, sour sweat and rotting mead filled my nostrils, rankling them. I couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe—

"Time to come out and display that pretty little face." My bald captor displayed his rotting teeth in a broken grin. My stomach roiled.

I'd spent two full moon cycles caged by this man, unable to escape. I had tried, desperately tried, but to him I was a priceless find.

Fair, young, unblemished. Untouched.

Chains rattled, a lock twisted, grinding loud in my ears. It was not a release to freedom, but a to eternal enslavement. Death. I wish I'd died with the others now.

"Come on, out with yeh." The rough fibres of the heavy rope collar bit into my neck, the feeling now too familiar, but I couldn't move. My mind dizzied, and it was only by the man's ruthless hauling, I scrambled, on hands and knees from the iron crate.

Air vanished momentarily as he hauled me to my feet, the rope collar tight against my windpipe. I couldn't get me knees to steady. I hadn't stood properly in weeks, and they wobbled precariously like a newborn foal. My wasted muscles strained to hold my starved frame, but I needn't have bothered. The man kept a tight grip on my collar, all too aware how I'd tried to escape him before.

"Alright, here we have a half-elf likely, come of age, untouched. What a fine figure she'd cut in the sheets!" A shudder raked through me as the crowd crowed and jeered. "Who'll start the bidding toda—"

"Fifteen gold!"

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-five!"

My ears buzzed, the action blurring to the pounding of my own heart. Soon, soon it would be over. Soon someone would claim ownership of me, like an animal, like an object.

"Six-hundred." A voice, hard and cold, caused the crowd to still.

"Six-hundred?" Anyone 'ere to best this 'ere gentleman?" A sob tore from my throat as the auction man called sold.

** _~ Geralt ~_ **

"Move!" I roared, causing townsfolk to scatter in Roach's wake. We careened at a gallop around a street corner, and the city square came into view. Folk bunched close to the wooden platform, where two men, one bald and the other possessing slick, raven hair, and a cruel glint to his eye, fought with a mere slip of a girl. Her tangled, dirty hair still glint gold under the cold sunlight, the torn, stained shift she wore barely detracting from her beauty. Elf blood.

The substantial coin at my side weighed heavy. She'd already been auctioned. I was too late. Fuck.

Veering to the right of the crowd, I leapt from the saddle, pushing through the auction goers who laughed at the terrified girl's futile fight for escape.

A whip flashed between her shoulders, and she cried out, the sound morphing to a snarl, she writhed, spitting up at her buyer's face. The whip cracked again, and again, and my own heart pounded harder with each slash, knowing exactly how they cut, how they burned as if a fire licked her flesh. The eager crowd milled closer, hindering me with their jostling bodies. If I didn't get her soon…

I was close enough now to scent the coppery tang of her blood, see the way her body trembled like a leaf, surely only held up by her still bottom lip, held between her teeth.

Time was dwindling, I'd left a hot trail in my haste to reach the auctions. I needed to act now, damn the hundred-odd Kaedwen witnesses.

Shoving the last of the men between me and the platform aside, I swung up onto the boards, drawing a blade, slicing clean through the whip as it ascended again towards the girl.

The crowd stilled, the raven-haired buyer swung around, dragging the girl by the rope about her neck. I didn't hesitate, driving my sword through his chest.

"The girl is now mine." I wrenched my sword from the body, letting it drop. The girl scrambled back from him, back from me, sea-blue eyes wide with horror. It was definitely her.

Beyond the square, the ground trembled. Hoofbeats. Fuck.

** _~ Eliana ~_ **

Fire licked at my back, fogging my mind from the searing pain, but I fought it, edging away from the snow-haired monster of a man with fury glowing behind coal black eyes. He whistled, drawing a second sword.

"Get on the horse." Voice low, gravely, commanding, he shouldered me towards a chestnut who appeared behind us. I stumbled down from the platform, towards the horse, hope of escape blossoming behind my quaking ribs.

If I could just get on, stay on. I was a good enough rider...

The snow haired man roared, and I whirled to the clash of steel, the shouts of other men. Arms wrapped about my middle, and a scream ripped from my lips, from fear and pain. The ground tilted, the sky darkening.

Cold earth met my hands, a horse whinnied, silver flashes of shod hooves dancing around me. Silver flashes of the snow haired man's blades, as he fought what seemed to me, a never-ending army dressed in black and gold.

I'd seen this army before, bathed in the fires of a burning city-town, leaving streams of scarlet in their wake. The army of my people. The army of Verden.

** _~ Geralt ~_ **

The girl was barely conscious, a small tattered body guarded by Roach's teeth and hooves, should anyone get past my blades. The townspeople had scattered at the arrival of the soldiers. Three remained, a fourth having galloped off to no doubt alert the larger part of their party likely still travelling from the previous town. We needed to get far away from here.

With a bellow, two men rushed me. Blocking one, I slammed my other blade into the second one's neck. A third man's blade burned across my thigh. Spinning away from the pain, I arced a blade, driving it true. The third man grunted, falling to his knees. The last man, mouth bloody; ran.

Turning to Roach, I stilled the mare, kneeling at the girl's side. Blood stained the dirt she lay unconscious upon, the thin shift she wore clung crimson to her back. If only time would permit, I could treat her. A small mercy falling unconscious; she would feel no pain, and hopefully by the time she awoke, we'd be far away from her pursuers. Sheathing my weapons, I gathered her up, and climbed into the saddle. Pointing Roach towards snow capped mountains, I urged the mare into a gallop, the girl tucked securely against my chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a kudo to your Witcher if you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Chapter Two

_ **~ Eliana ~** _

A chill, pine-infused breeze brushed my cheeks, mingling with the damp scent of horse, of something else human—but not so.

Hoofs rolled against soft soil at a canter by the three beat thuds. An arm braced about my middle, holding me against a warm body so closely, we moved as one to the rhythm of the horse's lope.

"You are awake." Words reverberated through my spine, awakening my last memories. It was the snow haired man. The man who had killed the vile man, who had won me at action, in order to possess me for himself. He'd escaped the soldiers and taken me. I remembered his eyes; pure black fury.

I began writhing in his grip, fear of what he did in the town, of what he could do to me drowning out every other rational thought.

"Hey careful, you'll hurt yourself." He wasn't wrong, my injured back seared, the slicing pain blinding, but I fought on until he let out a growl of frustration, and let me go, slowing the horse to a halt. I tumbled from the saddle, biting down on the inside of my cheek from the pain.

He slid from the horse. I scrambled to my unsteady feet. He put his arms out, a peace gesture. I backed away, feet tripping over sticks and pine needles, heart slamming against my starved ribs, waves of dizziness threatening to drag me under once again.

"Stay away from me!" My voice came out husky from the rope, from my earlier screams.

"I will not hurt you, I'm here to help you."

I snorted, stepping back further into a group of young pines. "You think me a fool? The last man who promised help, threw me into a cage." I knew I had no hope of escaping him, nevertheless, I ignored the bite of flayed skin at my back, and darted about for a stick, seizing a hefty pine branch.

"Put that down, Eliana, you'll hurt yourself." He muttered, distracted as he searched the pockets of his charcoal trousers, pulling out a folded parchment. My heart stuttered out, my grip slackening on the futile, makeshift weapon. How did he know my name?

For the first time I met his gaze. His eyes weren't black anymore. Perhaps I had imagined such a monster? Instead they were a golden ochre… I stared at him, my entire body going weak as he closed the gap between us, holding the parchment before him like a white flag. I gripped the branch tighter, a warning he noted. Once I had taken the note between my shaky fingers, he took three respectful steps back.

I recognised Petra's scrawled healers writing.

_Little Firefly, you can trust Geralt._

I looked away from the letter, catching the hopeful purse of his straight mouth, and narrowed my eyes to pick up on any tells. "How do I know you are this, Geralt?" His right brow raised a fraction. I hauled on my branch, brandishing it in his direction. "You could have stolen this note."

"Keep reading, Eliana." His tongue rolled my name, impatient, causing my heart to stammer in my chest once again. I went back to the note, realising nowhere stated my true name.

_Because I know you are the smart girl you are, and will question the poor soul's existence, know this; his eyes may be gold, but one of those blades strapped to his back is wrought of pure silver._

The eyes were enough to convince me. All at once, I couldn't keep my knees locked beneath me, such was the wave of relief which knocked me to the carpet of pine-needles.

The world tilted for the second time today, the ebbing pain carving flames down my spine, where the drying blood tugged at my shift. A sob worked its way unbidden from my chest. It hurt, but I was safe, Petra had sent help. This man, whoever he was, I could perhaps trust.

**~Geralt~**

"It's alright." I moved the short distance to where she'd fallen to her knees. She shook her head, as if trying to clear it, blue-green eyes an ocean of suffering.

Kneeling, I chanced tilting her chin, catching her gaze with my own. Despite the short letter, she was scared, and rightly so. Apart from the obvious, I could only imagine the trials she had been through over the past three months since the peaceful Kingdom of Verden had been taken over by King Wiscar's daughter and deceiver, Fallon. The Verdens, who had not fallen under her reign of power, had fled; taken in by the elves of Brokilon forest.

The newly crowned Queen Fallon had claimed the mage and elf forged staff, Luminore, wielding it and her own powers to control the Verden army, and put a target on the head of the terrified girl staring back at me now. The only soul in the entire Continent, who could put a stop to Fallon's reign of despair.

Standing, I fetched a waterskin from a pack. "Here, drink." I thrust the waterskin into her hands and leaned back, giving her space again. Her eyes darted to mine, as she sniffed at the mouth of the skin before taking a tentative sip. She made to return it, but I shook my head. "Take as much as you need. We'll be able to replenish at a stream soon. Are you able to ride a little further?" Between sips, she nodded. Ciri flashed in my mind. This girl had the same fire, the same regal demeanour which only blood could create.

"Good. I know a place we'll be safe for the night." A frown crossed her features while I checked over Roach. I'd ridden the mare hard and off any road, ensuring we put distance behind our pursuers. "Not far now." I rubbed her damp neck, taking a short moment for myself before turning back to Eliana. Shakily, she rose to her feet. She kept shaking.

Fuck. She would be freezing in that rag she was wearing. Tugging at leather straps, I pulled my cloak from behind the saddle, shaking it out.

"Here." I draped it about her shoulders but didn't tie it. The rope collar, I hadn't removed it in my haste to get out of the town. Stretching down, I pulled a knife from my boot. She gasped, jolting away from me.

"Sorry, I only mean to cut the rope." Her lip trembled, but she held still, allowing me to sever the rough fibres. Air whistled between her teeth as I eased away the remnants from raw welts against her neck and throat.

"Thank you." She whispered, and I looked from the angry bruising and cuts to those blue-green eyes. Shadows had cast the light from their depths, the light of the elves, but it flickered, a spark of hope.

"When we stop for the night, I'll treat your injuries." Rather than have her walk to Roach, I called the mare to her side, and helped her into the saddle, swinging up behind her. We'd lingered here too long. The woods were deepening, the sun casting long shadows to the West.

As before, I pulled her flush against my chest, forcing a small cry of pain from her lips. "Sorry, but this will be better in the long run." I murmured, nudging Roach into a lope. We needed to be deeper within the pine-laden foothills of Gory Ogniste before nightfall, with a fire going, before the wolves went on the prowl, or worse, the army caught us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toss a kudo to your Witcher if you enjoyed this chapter.


	4. Chapter Three

** _~ Eliana ~_ **

The remaining ride had been excruciating on my back and fraying to what remained of my nerves. Geralt, as the letter from Petra had named him, had kept a tight hold on my midsection, so the entirety of my back was flush against his chest and torso. It was to restrict bumps against one another as his horse cantered the wild, twisted terrain. My mind had skittered around and around, doubting his intentions, questioning Petra's letter.

When he reined the mare in, declaring we'd reached camp, his rough voice like the throaty rumble of a Brokolin forest wolf, an exhausted sigh of relief gushed from my lips. Sliding from the horse, before he could make a move to touch me, my knees buckled, eyesight darkening, head buzzing. I'd forgotten the material of my shift had dried against my injuries. Hands were at my biceps in an instant, keeping me from falling further. No matter his intentions, I still flinched at the contact, despite the barrier of the heavy cloak he'd given me earlier.

"Come, sit over here, I'll start a fire." Transferring all his support to my right arm, he steered me beneath a pine, where its needles lay thickest upon the earth. Bone-weary, I sank to my knees, dragging the cloak more securely about myself, and flopped to my side, closing my eyes to the constant pull of pain each time my ribs expanded and contracted. If he came for me now, I had no strength left to fight him.

** _~Geralt~_ **

If it were not for the shallow breathing causing my cloak wrapped about her to shift, or wisps of fog vanishing into the air upon each exhale, I would have feared her dead.

Making quick work of a fire and setting a small pot over the flames to heat water from the nearby stream, I prepared everything to treat Eliana's injuries. I'd smelt far worse things in my time, but she was desperately in need of a bath. So was I, but that could wait.

The stream was my best chance of removing the grime from her and loosening that bloodied shift from her injuries. Getting her to agree would prove the bigger challenge. The girl didn't trust me, and the water was freezing. Petra, the woman who had raised her, was a healer. As I walked the hidden camp area to stir the sleeping girl, I hoped she had enough healer sense to understand what I asked of her.

Despite her exhaustion, she startled awake at my gentle touch of her shoulder, scrambling around hisses of pain to sit up. I sat back on my haunches, giving her breathing room. "I need to treat your injuries; we don't want infection setting in. First, we need to get that shift off, and you need to bathe." The firelight reflected the fear widening her eyes. "There is a stream, if I give you a knife, soap, and one of my clean under-shirts, do you think you can cut the shift off and bathe by yourself?"

"Yes." Her reply came without thought, driven by pure fear.

"The water is like ice."

"I'll go." She began trying to stand, stumbling on the soft bed of pine-needles. A hand shot out, grasping my arm for support, before her fingers tore away, realising what she'd done.

"Follow me." I walked slow, so she could keep up. If she'd have let me, I would have carried her, and carried out the tasks myself, but I was a Witcher. I knew injuries would heal and scar, but those inflicted upon the mind remained there as memories forever. Sometimes the cost of freedom was pain. I let her have her freedom.

** _~ Eliana ~_ **

Once I was certain he'd abided to his promise, and was not within sight of me, I stepped into the shallow stream. Cold! I gasped, my bare feet numb to the rough sand bottom, as the icy water bit at my legs. At least, I countered, it would numb the pain of my back and soothe the inflammation.

When Geralt had advised I needed to bathe before treating my injuries, I had agreed without question, despite knowing it would prove difficult on my own. I was filthy from the conditions the slave trader had kept me in, and the only chances I'd had to bathe, were the rare times I was left out in the rain in a cage.

Gasping again as I sank to my bellybutton in the shallows, I cupped my hands, splashing water over myself, drenching the rest of the bloodied shift. Within moments my teeth were chattering, cold shivers wracking my body, but I persisted, using the knife Geralt had leant me to cut away the soiled shift.

The way his golden gaze had held mine when he'd pressed the hilt into my hand, I was sure it had been his way of saying he knew I feared him, he knew I'd feel a little easier for a blade at my side. He'd said nothing, only to call out if I needed help, or when I was done bathing.

Crimson and brown swirled in the waters, washing away grime and blood, but it wasn't enough. I didn't feel clean. Facing the chill and possibility of chipping a tooth a little longer, I used the sand of the stream, rubbing it hard against my arms, my legs and my front. I relished the abrasive texture, imagining it removed the fingerprints I sometimes thought I could still feel pressing against my skin. I used the soap last, washing away the sand, the remaining blood, hissing as it seeped into my injuries, unwanted touches, and finally my hair and the undergarment I still miraculously owned.

When I left the stream, I could only crawl, too exhausted, and shaking too hard to stand. Fumbling, I pulled the sage green undershirt Geralt had lent me over my head, the material soft and comforting against my skin from wear. Chancing to stand, using a nearby tree trunk for support, I felt better knowing the undershirt fell to brush against the tops of my knees. Wringing out my underwear, and with awkward tugs, I re-covered my modesty. They were hardly pleasant, being wet, but they would dry, and I was clean.

** _~ Geralt ~_ **

The silly girl had lingered too long in the stream. Her lithe frame shook as if taken by a violent fit when I returned at her call. She was clean at least, smelling of the sweet mountain water, cinnamon and honey from the bar of soap, and something else which was entirely her, but I could not yet decipher.

Retrieving my cloak, I threw it over her shaking frame, and picked her up before she could utter a protest. She did anyway.

"Put me down, you monster!" A growl rumbled up from my chest, where her words had cut it like a blade. She wasn't afraid of me because of past trials, she was afraid because I was a Witcher. A monster in her eyes. With a foul taste in my mouth, I carried her back to the fire, and deposited her on the sleep-roll I'd set out.

"The lights fading, and I need it to work. Wrap the cloak around your hips and lie on your stomach."

"I'll sit, if it is all the same to you." Had the mountain waters frozen her heart, and sharpened her tongue? When I'd taken this contract, I didn't expect to be retrieving a Witcher-hater.

"Fine." I waited, crossing my arms over my chest as she shrugged off the cloak, wrapping it about her waist and thighs. She stilled, and I took it as my cue to approach, kneeling behind her. I grasped the edge of the shift, noting she was still shaking, and began to pull it up— "Wait!" My hands froze. "Please, just tell me everything you will do before you do it." Had I been wrong? It wasn't hate lacing her words, but an anxious fear. I blew out an ill-contented sigh, my breath shifting the strands of her drying hair. It was a knotted mess, another thing to be dealt with after.

"Of course." I conceded. "I'm going to remove the shirt over your head. If it makes you more comfortable, you can hold it to your chest."

"Okay." Her strained consent told me she was on the verge of breaking. In all my years, I'd never had close dealings with a girl, no, a young woman, in this kind of abused situation. It had been a while since I'd felt out of my depth.

**~ Eliana ~**

He was careful, the way he eased the shirt up. Lifting it over my head, he sucked in a breath at whatever he saw of my exposed back. I knew some areas still bled by the smattering of fresh blood on the clean shirt I grasped from him, pulling it tight against my chest.

"I'm going to wash down your back with a warm tincture. It will sting." I nodded, and after a moment, he spoke again. "I'll start at your right shoulder and work down." Warmth infused my skin, the tincture running rivulets down my back, and then the warmth erupted into an inferno.

I jerked forward, biting back a cry, but a hiss still escaped between my teeth. My fingers crushed the shirt at my chest, and when he wrung out, re-dipped and applied the cloth to my left shoulder-blade, I cried out, tears stinging. This was nothing like the wound cleansing tinctures used in Verden, they stung yes, but this was a hundred times worse. This was as if I was being lashed by that whip all over again.

"Nearly done." His low voice barely registered through my own memories. The last word I heard him utter was, "fuck," before my vision blackened.


	5. Chapter Five

** _~ Geralt ~_ **

Fuck, I should have known the tincture would be too strong for her. Eliana had passed out, crumpling forward over herself. A finger at her throat ensured she still had a pulse, and so I continued cleansing her wounds.

Five open cuts inflicted by that man's whip. Two would need sutures. Did she possess other injuries apart from the welts at her throat? I wouldn't search her, not without her awake, consenting. But I needed her lying flat.

Gripping her shoulders, I eased her onto her stomach, re-arranging the cloak which had slipped, revealing worn underwear. That she still had them incited hope the dog or dogs who'd caught her hadn't laid a hand on her.

I bore scars, made no prettier by hasty sutures on the road. I took a care with hers, eyes still keen in the twilight, guided by the flicker of flames over her skin. By some good luck, she began to stir after I'd finished, while I was fetching a jar of balm.

"Stay there, I've sutured your back." She made to scramble up, gasping in pain. "Don't move, you have no shirt." I warned, and she stilled, canting her head to watch me. Hatred filled her fiery-blue eyes, along with the fear. I liked her better unconscious.

"What happened, what did you do to me?" She demanded, but the shake in her voice betrayed her. Did she not realise if I'd wanted to harm her, I would have by now, and easily?

"Some sutures. You passed out from the tincture. I warned you it would sting."

"Not that much." I nearly smirked at her grumbling reply.

"I'll apply a balm now, to seal the wounds. If you wish to sit up again, I'll turn around."

"Please." I spun on my heel, counting to ten, surprised by her manners. When I turned back, she was sitting, cloak covering her hips and front from view.

"I'll start at your right shoulder again." I settled behind her, dipping a fingertip into the tacky balm. She trembled at my touch but didn't flinch away as I covered the length of one cut, and then the next.

** _~ Eliana ~_ **

The balm didn't hurt, it soothed. Strangely, so did his methodological movements. I was unused to feeling this weak and helpless. I hated it. Usually I was the one helping others, healing others.

Fingers threaded through my tangle of hair, sweeping it aside. "I'll treat where the rope burned your skin."

"Okay." I whispered through a tremor of fear. Fingers and thumbs had encircled my throat before choking off air, rendering me unconscious. I tried to hold still, but at the first brush of his fingers, I jolted sideways. He paused, making a low rumbling sound, then continued his ministrations. I could feel the rough pads of his fingers, but his touch was gentle, without ill intent. _For now_, a voice in my mind whispered.

"If you'll allow me to bandage your back, then we'll eat." Food. The very thought of it caused my hollow stomach to clench. I nodded, grabbing the shirt to cover my breasts, letting the cloak pool at my hips.

He made swift work of winding three lengths of clean cloth across my left shoulder, covering my chest with my help, to cover the worst of the lashes across my back.

"All done, you can put the shirt back on." Body bound, my movements were stiff, and by the time I'd tugged the shirt down to my knees, and wrapped the cloak around my shoulders, Geralt had packed away his healing kit, and a steaming bowl of some kind of broth awaited me, complete with a small hunk of bread and cheese. My mouth watered. This was more food than I'd eaten in one sitting in weeks.

"It's not much, but—"

"No, it is. Thank you." I lifted my head, meeting his gaze.

"Take it slow, if your stomach has shrunk, it will be unused to big meals. You'd know that though." He added, serving the same meal up for himself. So, he knew I had skills as a healer. I nodded, hunkering down on the simple delights before me.

My back hurt less for the balm and strapping, my stomach eased of its cramping for the warm food, but exhaustion once again crept up on me. Geralt had remained silent, putting things away in his packs, pulling other items out, and checking his horse.

Presently he knelt before me, those strange, golden eyes assessing against the firelight.

"How are you feeling? No longer cold?" I shook my head. The heat of the fire had infused right through to my bones. "Before you rest, I need you to tell me if you have any other injuries?"

"Only bruises, and light cuts and scrapes." He rumbled something unintelligible under his breath, confliction creasing his brow.

"And what of other violations? Did anyone lay a hand on you?" I stared at him, his question paralysing. Last time someone had asked me such a question, and I had answered truthfully, they'd checked to confirm. Was he going to? A disgruntled sigh whooshed through his pursed lips. "What I mean is, do you still have your, uh virtue?"

"No." I hurried out. The lie was an easy one to tell if it would make me less desirable. The slave traders had rejoiced in my innocence, stating men would pay triple to take it for themselves.

I knew I'd made the right choice when Geralt stood, turning his back, swearing under his breath.

"Was it the slave traders?" Did it matter? It did, I realised. He whirled back, golden eyes swirling in anger. It wasn't directed at me.

"N... no. Before, a boy, from home." His broad shoulders relaxed.

"Good." He seemed pleased by my answer, and I wondered if I'd needed to lie to him at all? "One more thing, I want you to drink this. It will ward off infection." He produced a small vial of a dull, orange liquid.

"What is it?" I had no desire to drink something I did not know the ingredients of.

"Something an old friend taught me to brew. An infusion of lemon, garlic bulb, ginger root, oregano leaf, and a few other herbs."

"Sounds delicious." He rumbled in amusement perhaps. Geralt uncorked the vial, and I took it, trusting him as I had trusted him treating my back. I downed the liquid in one go, nearly coughing the acidic mixture back up. He took the empty vial, pressing a waterskin into my hand. "You forgot to mention cider." I croaked out, after washing the disgusting potion down, to which the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Rest now." The tension in the air between us had vanished. Nodding, I eased onto my right side.

I had so many questions to ask him, including where we were, and why Petra had sent him. And what of Verden? Mostly, I wanted to know why a man perhaps several years, or a decade my senior, had hair like moonlight on snow and golden eyes which glowed wild like a forest wolf's? But I couldn't get my tongue to form the words. Had he drugged me? I made to sit up, to demand if he had, but my body was heavy, my eyelids heavier, closing of their own accord.

** _~ Geralt ~_ **

With the girl tended to and now asleep, I braved the icy stream; stripping myself of a weeks' worth of dirt and grime, and the blood of today; A mixture of hers and the men I had killed to save her.

Food had warmed her a little towards me, but I dreaded the many days we'd spend on the road back to Verden. It didn't matter who'd seen me on roads in my search for her. Now I had her, I needed to keep her out of reach of Queen Fallon's men. There was a bounty on her head, a desirable reward to the man who brought the queen the girl's eyes. A horrific request, but a way to identify her, for they mirrored the King's. Did the usurper Queen not know of the Royal Mark of Verden? Did Eliana? I'd glimpsed it, shifting her hair to treat her neck, a small glint of gold hidden away behind her left ear.

Using a blade, I shaved away a weeks' worth of facial growth, then strode from the water. How the girl had tolerated the temperature so long was beyond me. Far off, a wolf howled, met by an answering call further away still. We'd be safe here for the night. I dried off, pulling my one other pair of clean trousers on. My undershirt I'd washed in the stream and would hang by the fire. Eliana had my spare. I should have had the sense to procure a dress or something in my travels for her.

A terrified cry shattered the night. Snatching up my silver blade, I raced towards the campfire on the other side of the overgrown stream.

She thrashed, tangled in my cloak, gasping and choking, crying out. "Shh, it's alright, it's alright." I pressed a hand to her shoulder, trying to wake her, or still her, I wasn't sure. Those ocean eyes snapped open, widening in horror. "It was only a dream." I ignored her disgust in me, continuing to calm her. If she kept up the crying out like an injured creature, we'd have the wolves at as within the hour.

"Don't hurt me."

I let out a sigh. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you need to be quiet. There are wolves out there." She blinked up at me, seeming to regain her surroundings.

"I'm, I'm sorry." She whispered. I gave her a single nod, pressed a hand swiftly to her forehead to check she had not gained a fever, to which she flinched, and retreated to the stream for my boots and washed shirt.

When I returned, she had fallen back to sleep. She had my one sleep-roll, and so I made do with a blanket and the pine-needles, lying on my back a few feet from her, letting the crackle and snap of firewood lull me into a half-slumber. The potion I had given Eliana would ensure a restless night as it worked through her blood and tormented her dreams, but it was the only way to ensure an infection would not take hold, and to speed up her healing.

The fire had burnt to embers when she stirred again, calling out for her mother, for the woman, Petra, for help.

"Shh, rest now, it's all right." I spoke low, voice thick with sleep, reaching across the distance to rest a hand on her shoulder once more. She was shaking. Rolling to my side to get closer, I placed my hand on her forehead. No fever, no sweat beading her skin, but she was cool to touch. The night had grown colder. The potion I'd given her was playing with her dreams, and I could only imagine the terrors.

"No, no, no, no…"

"Shh—"

"No, no!" She shot upright, shouting. Fuck, she'd call down the entire wolf pack at this rate to finish us off.

"Eliana, listen to me, it's only a dream." Her unfocused eyes blinked in my direction, her body shaking, swaying.

"You, your eyes are gold." She mumbled.

"Yeah." Make me stand out as different, just like yours. Except I'm hated for mine, by people like you. I didn't say the rest aloud.

"Where am I?" She swayed violently, swiveling her head about.

"You're in the woods, where it's safe." I touched her shoulder, instead finding my fingers tangled in her hair. Despite still trembling beneath my touch, she stilled.

"Your eyes were black, now they are gold." She mumbled more to herself.

"Yeah." I admitted. No wonder she had called me a monster, she'd seen what I could be.

"They are nicer gold." She was slumping, sleep pulling her under once more. I eased her back down onto her side, sliding my fingers through her hair, loosening snagged tresses. She let out a sigh, bordering on contentment, and so I repeated the action, running my fingers through her soft hair, gently working the tangles loose, over and over, long after she had fallen into a peaceful sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

**_~ Geralt ~_ **

The path ahead lay clear of limestone outcrops, a straight run down into the next valley, and so I let Roach have her head. Securing Eliana tight against my chest, I leaned us both back a fraction in the saddle as the mare's hoofs thundered beneath us, gathering speed.

Now I had explained her birthright and why she was hunted, Eliana had lapsed into silence. I didn't pry; it was a lot to take in, and she was still healing. Her strength, despite her surprising show with my blade that morning, was low.

A full day had passed, and no one had found us. While I was glad we'd escaped, it seemed too easy. Something did not bode well, but I didn't know what. Easing Roach back to a trot, we entered the grassy valley, and movement caused me to bring the mare to a solid halt.

"What's wrong" Eliana spoke low, wary.

"I've found dinner." I grinned. In the long grasses, rabbits hopped about, some sitting upright, ears flickering back and forth in our direction. With slow movements, I eased the small crossbow from my back, and slid a bolt in place, nudging Roach in a half circle to ensure a clear shot.

Before me, Eliana sat as still as if she were made of stone, yet I could sense her coiled muscles. Her instincts were strong. She was hungry, and right now it was as if a predator lurked beneath her sun-gold skin.

I sighted up a plump looking creature, busying itself on thistle leaves. Exhaling, I released the trigger. The rabbit screamed once and then was still whilst the others fled to their burrows in a flurry of grey and russet brown. I nudged Roach towards the fallen creature. Swinging down, I removed the bolt from its neck, wiping the excess blood on the grass before replacing it with the others at my back. The rabbit I checked for disease, before picking it up by its limp back legs to fasten with a strap of leather off the back of the saddle. All the while, I felt her eyes on me. We were getting along, it seemed, but I still sensed her unease. At least she hadn't called me a monster again, but I'd seen how she studied my hair, my eyes. Did she think them beastly? Is that why she stared?

"Hope you like rabbit." Refusing to glance at her, I swung back up behind her in the saddle.

"I considered rat while I was…" She trailed off, but she didn't need to finish. That she'd shared something of her time captured was a surprise.

"They taste awful." I made to wrap my arm about her to settle her back securely against me before we rode again, but she pushed my hand away.

"It's fine." I frowned at the back of her head, but let my left hand fall to my thigh, pressing Roach into a lope.

**~ Eliana ~**

My mouth watered of its own accord as the rabbit Geralt had skinned, gutted and trussed up to roast over a fire cooked, the smell of roast floating on the smoke whenever a breeze pushed it my way.

He'd once again checked if there was any heat to my back indicating infection. Finding none, he'd decided to leave my bandages another day. Relief had rushed through my body. Last night had been hard enough to sit still, harder to awaken and realise I'd passed out unclothed.

I was certain after a full day of riding, and of the way his horse trusted him, loved him even, Geralt would not harm me. My instincts knew this. My mind, filled with dark memories, did not. Geralt looked nothing like those men. He looked nothing like any man I had met. He did not act like those men. So why did I keep making the mistake of thinking he was the same?

Blowing out a sigh, I shifted my weight from where I sat upon a soft bed of wild-grass, legs tucked beneath me. Tonight, we camped in a small hollow in a different gully to the one where Geralt had shot the rabbit. This one was deeper, and the air would be colder if it were not for the fire. I had Geralt's cloak wrapped about me and turned to watch him where he brushed his mare; murmuring to her in low tones I could not overhear. Was he cold without his cloak? He'd had a blanket when I had awoken this morning, so he felt the cold, but I wondered to what extent? Was he from a cold climate and therefore used to it? Is that why he had such a pale complexion? How did Petra know him? How did he know Petra? How… how could he have possibly known the King—my father's, mother? My grandmother? She'd been killed in a rebel attack nearly forty years ago… Perhaps he was a sorcerer? But if he was a sorcerer, why hadn't he used magic to do… well anything?

**~ Geralt ~**

She was watching me again. Was there no peace from her judgement? Finishing up with Roach, I checked the rabbit, tearing off a back limb to check it was cooked through. I hated the taste of raw meat, no matter what people thought. Unfortunately, I'd tasted my fair share of fresh blood from all assortment of creatures, including human.

Handing her the leg, I fetched the cleaned knife I used for cooking, and one of my two bowls. I carved up the meat, then settled with the bowl at Eliana's side, so we could both take from it. She didn't flinch like she had earlier when I'd checked her back. I'd made the call then to leave her be. The wounds were clean, the potion I'd given her was working, along with the Dragons Tongue leaf. Still, I'd have her drink the potion again tonight. Better to be safe. Too much weighed on her safe return to Verden. I was contracted to keep her alive.

Contract or not, although her watching me was annoying, the company on the road was a pleasant change. She didn't speak much, and I was unsure if she was quiet by nature, or if she just didn't want to speak to me. On the contrary, in explaining the goings on of Verden to her, I'd spoken in one day more than I had in an entire year. At least she didn't provoke me to open my mouth without knowing what would crawl out, like Yen used to.

Yennefer. My ribs contracted, crushing the air momentarily from my lungs. Damn witch. She'd been right. In our hideaway, we'd thought our minds, our hearts had found peace. No more fighting, no more judgement. We could be ourselves. Together. We were joined, along with Ciri, a family tied by bonds which would never break, because of destiny, because of a last, desperate wish.

I never considered time, the breaker of us all, even those who could live for centuries.

_"You are restless, and I am weary." Yen said, staring out across the crystal waters of the lake. "The peace you seek is not here, no matter how hard you wish it, because in the end, we are held together by your wish."_

_"It's more than that." I countered, angry she would bring any of it up._

_"A wish you made out of desperation, a wish which binds me to you, and you to I." She finished. It was nothing I didn't already know, but my restlessness, I'd tried to hide it. I had grown restless with idling by, as the world shifted, rising and falling._

_"I too have made a wish, Geralt." Her voice, it was… no... It was final. Panic seized my heart, and I grabbed her arm, spinning her to face me._

_"What have you done?" Those violet eyes gazed back at me, weary, older. Their spark faded. "Yen?"_

_"I love you, Geralt of Rivia, but I am tired. My soul is tired."_

_"No." I barked out, pulling her closer, pressing my lips to her forehead. "No." I said against her brow, softer._

_There's someone out there, with no ties to you because you had to make a choice. It will be real."_

_"This is real." I pleaded, but in my heart, I knew each word she spoke was the truth. I'd known all along I would lose her, known all along she was never truly mine. But to let her go, to be without her? No. No, I could not endure without her._

In the end, I endured because she asked me to. I was still enduring. Yen had bid me promise to live too. Was I living?

I'd come back after Yen had taken her final breath, because without her, I only knew monsters.

"Geralt?" Pulling myself from the torments of my mind, I turned to Eliana, noting she'd eaten half the rabbit meat, and left the rest for me.

"Hmm?"

"I uh, was wondering if you would like your cloak back?"

"You need it more than I." She nodded, staring at the flames before us. The question was an odd one, surely she knew a Witcher could withstand extreme weather beyond the capacities of a man? A small yawn escaped her, and I decided it was time to give her a second vial of the potion. As if sensing my thoughts, she turned her head, wary blue-green eyes finding mine.

"To be safe, I'll give you another dose of the healing potion, then you should rest." I got up, before she could protest, and pulled the correct vial from a pack resting against a nearby shrub. When I stood again, she was too.

"Uh, here." I uncorked and handed the vial over, and she downed it in three gulps, her decidedly fair elven features screwed up from the bitter taste. The empty vial was thrust back into my hand, as she used the water from a skin she also held, to wash down the taste.

"Thank you." She bit out, tone harsh, surprising, until I realised standing had pulled at her injuries. She let out a low hiss between her teeth as she moved to the other side of the fire.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding a place to rest." She muttered, testing the softness of the grass underfoot, the mass of my cloak causing her to blend into the darkness, despite my keen eyes.

"There is a bedroll remember, wait and I'll unroll it for you." I strode to where it lay, still rolled and tied.

"No, it's yours, I'll be fine here." Stubborn girl, what was she playing at now? Carrying the bedroll, I stalked to where she was still testing the grass beneath her bare feet. They were freezing, surely. She couldn't sleep on the grass. My own feet were bare, and despite it bothering me little, I knew each blade of grass held the chill of winter in this deep valley.

"It's too cold for you, here." I unravelled the roll before turning to her.

"Fine, I'll sleep on the other side." I thought she'd conceded, offering to share the bedroll, but no, she brushed past me, returning to the other side of the fire. A growl of frustration worked its way out of my chest.

"Eliana."

"Geralt." She mimicked back, and I almost laughed, but her antics were maddening. She needed sleep, I needed sleep, and she didn't need to go and freeze herself to death. I followed her back around the fire where she'd stilled. No, she swayed. "I was right, you are drugging me." Her words were slow, coming out wrong, but they still stung of accusation.

"Not intentionally. The healing potion is not meant for someone like you, it's too strong."

"Then whose it meant for?" Her knees buckled from beneath her, and her hands shot out, grasping, but I had her, holding her steady at the sides. Still, her fingers were twisted into the front of my shirt, over my heart.

"It is meant for me."

"Figures." She half scoffed, half mumbled, words failing her as the potion began to take over. "You are monstrous compared to me." Just like that, she'd reminded me of what I was. A monster, nothing more. A monster created to slay other monsters. Her weight deadened in my grip, and with a snort of derision at her last words, I pick her up, carrying her to the bedroll. I had no desire to wake close to her, and once I was certain she would not freeze, stalked back to the other side of the fire. I'd sleep with my blanket and the company of Roach, the cold be damned.

**~ Eliana ~**

_I wiggle in the long grass, watching the seed heads sway back and forth in the warm breeze. Back and forth, back and forth, they go. High, high above, big white clouds soar across the blue sky._

_Yesterday, Carr was here with me. He taught me how to spot the animals in the clouds. I squint at a funny-looking mass. It kind of looks like a horse… or is it a wolf? A big, white wolf. A big white wolf like the one from one of mamma's lullabies._

_Mamma, she will know which one it looks like most. I jump to my feet, and dash through the long grasses of the meadow past the grazing horses, past the fruit trees, vegetables and herb gardens, and tumble through the wooden fence rails._

_"Mamma!" I call out for my mamma, pushing open the back entrance into the kitchen. When I left for the meadow, mamma was singing, but now the cottage is very quiet. She does not answer me, and so I call her again, stomping in impatience. If she doesn't hurry, the clouds will move and the horse or the wolf will be gone!_

_"Mamma?" I don't know why she won't answer, she always answers when I call her. A funny feeling, like I've swallowed wriggly earth worms, makes me wrap my arms tightly about my tummy. The kitchen is filled with sunshine, but beyond the door into the rest of the cottage where our bedrooms are, and little washroom, and hearth room, it is dark and there is no singing._

_I feel scared, the wriggling worms wriggling more in my tummy. Its stupid. Mamma and Petra both say there is nothing to be afraid of in the cottage, it is always safe, but I am scared, and I don't know why, and I don't know why mamma won't come out._

_Making sure to be silent like the foxes and hares which live in the meadow, I creep into the hearth room. It's gloomy, but I can see. I can see mamma; she's lying on the ground in front of my favourite chair. Is this a game? Is she pretending to be asleep so I can sneak up on her? I keep creeping, being very, very quiet, creeping around the chairs, dropping to my hands and knees to crawl. I am a wolf, like the one in the clouds, sneaking up on her from behind a huge, huge tree, and she can be a sleeping deer, or, or a bear! A bear sleepy still from the winter! I am a clever little wolf; I'll wake her up!_

_I curl my fingers into paws and drop my shoulders, like I've seen the friendly wolves in the forest do, and stalk towards her. I am so close, and I think I will pounce on her, give her a good scare, but my paw hands are wet. I sit back, opening my palms. Its sticky, whatever the wet stuff is. I sniff at it, catching the bright red colour of it in the light. Blood. It smells like blood._

_"Mamma?" I stare at her, I call out her name over and over again, but she does not wake up. "Mamma!" I can feel the wet blood oozing on my hands, my arms, my legs, as I crawl right up to her. Her eyes are open, green as leaves, but she won't move, she won't answer me. Mamma is staring up at the rafters like she can't see me, like she can't hear me. "Mamma!" I shake her, I tug at her hand. It's cold, so cold like she's been out in winter snow, but it is summer, and she hasn't been out in the snow! "Mamma! Mamma!" I curl into her side, pressing my cheek against her collarbones. I can't hear the thump, thump of her heart... "Mamma…"_

_"It's all right, shh, it's all right."_

_I clasp on to the familiar smell of the man's shirt. He is mamma's special friend, Carr, and my friend. He'll help, he'll fix mamma._

_"Help mamma, help mamma, she can't see me, and she's hurt." I plead him, but he's carrying me away, into the kitchen. It's dark outside now, the sun is gone, no more birds are singing, just like mamma isn't singing. "Help mamma." I tell him again._

_"Shh, it's all right my little firefly, Petra is with her."_

_"Okay." I say, because Petra can make everyone better. Petra is a healer and works at the castle for the King._

_"Are you alright?" Carr_ says_ and I nod. He is still holding on to me and he always gives the best cuddles, so I press my head against his black shirt, and hug him back, hiding my face when Petra appears, when Petra tries to explain to me why mamma isn't all better, why Petra could not fix her._

_Carr is crying, I can feel his tears all wet in my hair, and so is Petra, and so I cry too, because I want my mamma, but she isn't coming. She'll never see the wolf or the horse in the clouds._


	7. Chapter Seven

_ **~ Geralt ~** _

Ignore her, Geralt, it's only the potion working through her system. I stared up at the stars, fingers clenched into the grass I lay upon to anchor myself from leaping up and doing something stupid.

Eliana let out soft, fitful cries, calling out for her mother, begging for someone to help her, to wake her up. Every time I shut my eyes to shut her out, I envisioned the story Petra had told me; of a small girl found covered in her mother's blood, clinging to her cold body, crying out for help.

I recalled having my own childhood dredged up by potions and poisons in the long ago past, and, on more recent times since returning to the continent. Hadn't I felt the despair of re-living those nightmares, of my mother abandoning me?

"Wake up, mamma, please wake up." Her crying was in earnest now, and blades of grass broke in my hands. "Please, please..." Ignore her, just ignore her. "Please help, please." Fuck! I leapt up, stumbling a little from the sudden action, and stalked around the glowing embers to where she was just visible swathed in my cloak, curled in on herself.

"Please he... help, please?" I knelt beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Shh, it's all right, shh." She sought my voice, hands reaching much like a child. The potion was a wretched concoction. For all it did good to the body, it injured the soul. Starlight illuminated her tear-streaked cheeks, and those eyes, fuck, those eyes held an ocean of sadness. I should have stayed on my side of the campfire, ignored her. Fuck! My resolve vanished, unravelled by shaking hands knotting into the front of my shirt, searching for something real, something safe.

"It's all right." Taking heed of her injuries, I lowered myself onto the bedroll, and wrapped my arms about her shaking frame. Her heart, I could feel it; a frantic staccato against my chest. Tears dampened my shirt where she buried her head, quiet sobs reverberating along my collarbone. "It's only a dream, it's all right." There was little more I could do to comfort her, and so, like the evening before, I stroked her hair.

Elven hair was softer than human, and readily took on the light of the moon and the sun, only adding to their enchanting features. Despite only being half Elf, Eliana's felt as if I were entwining my fingers in threads of the finest silk. Well, what I imagined threads of silk felt like.

Little by little, her heart-beat steadied, low sobs replaced by steady breaths. But she didn't let go of me, fingers still curled about the front of my shirt.

I drew in my own calming breath, releasing it in a sigh, ruffling her hair. I'd be remaining here for the rest of the night it seemed. Stirring, she burrowed closer against my chest, breaths relaxing once again. Her heart, it beat twice as fast as my own, yet every second beat synchronised mine. Remaining here was not so bad.

_ **~Eliana~** _

I would have hit him, but my hands were bunched into the front of his shirt. Why was he here? Why did I have a death grip on his shirt? Warm breaths ghosted over the crown of my head, but I dared not breathe for my mortification. He was here because I had been dreaming about... a shudder wracked through my entire being, and his breathing abruptly ceased.

Looking up, I met his eyes, perhaps a little less bright for his half-awake state. There were mere inches between my face and his; my chest flush against his own. His heart, I hadn't noticed it before, but now I did, a slow, steady beat beneath honed muscle and strong ribs. It was too slow, a yawning pause before its thump reverberated against my breastbone. It was unnatural to all I knew of the human anatomy.

"Good morning." His voice rumbled right through me. "I trust you slept well?" His mouth quirked at the corner and realising I still clung to his shirt between us, I let go of him, my cheeks and ears tingling with embarrassed heat.

What made it worse, I'd been clinging to him, but he'd had no arm around me keeping me there. My ears burned, and I scrambled up, ignoring the now familiar but unpleasant stretch and pull of my back. I needed to get away from him!

I walked a little way from the camp, my bare feet knocking drops of dew from each blade of meadow grass, drinking in the crisp earthen chill of the air. With each exhale, I pushed back those haunting dreams, and my embarrassment. Brushing my fingers over my cheek, I scowled, rubbing away the remnants of salted tears.

Geralt must think me childish, the way I had let my dreams affect me. We'd been so close… I shivered, thanking the stars he was not like those other men. Yet, what was he? I supposed he could be in such good health his heart did not need to beat as often. His physic certainly attested to that theory.

I peered over my shoulder. He was still lying where I'd left him, but he'd rolled onto his other side, facing me. There was a slight frown between his brows, but he otherwise didn't make a move to stop my wandering. I breathed in the sunlight, as it broke through the clouds, for the first time in a long time, letting my soul be wild.

**~Geralt~**

Sunlight played off the droplets on the long grass, the elegant female figure walking away from me, basking in its small warmth. Something had changed in her. Not the initial shock of awaking next to me, a predicament I had tried to rectify. She'd clung to my shirt with fists like talons, and I hadn't wanted to wake her before dawn. That's what I'd told myself. In truth, I'd felt… fuck, I didn't know. It was not the paternal pull Ciri had on me, nor was it exactly the way I had cared for Yen, or even how I had felt during my time with Triss… it was… indescribable.

Yen had never needed my protection, never needed me for more than conversation, companionship and sex. Yen was a mage, a powerful one at that. If anything, she was more capable of protecting me. The wish, my wish, bound us. Had bound us.

Ciri. I was bound to her too. My child of surprise. Bound by fate. Ciri was a daughter to me, a friend.

Triss. Well, my relationship with Triss was steeped in magic. When it faded, so did my feelings.

Eliana was not bound to me in any way, yet she was… fuck! Why was I analysing any of this? The girl despised me. I'd seen the horror in her wide eyes when I'd awoken, felt the shudder of revulsion through my bones. There were no feelings, only the foolish musings of someone who'd spent far too long alone on the roads with only his horse for company.

Still, the change in her, the one I saw now, I couldn't help but watch her every movement for more than heeding her safety. Despite her injuries, there was a wild grace about her movements, a beauty to the way she trailed her fingers over the tips of the grasses, venturing further to where a deer grazed. We could eat that deer. My fingers twitched toward my crossbow, but I didn't move, transfixed on the way the doe lifted her dainty head, allowing Eliana to walk right up to her.

I expected her to stroke the doe's head or neck, but she didn't, sinking down into the long grass beside the creature instead. Curiously, the doe sniffed at her hair and Eliana's lips moved, speaking words I could not hear. The doe went back to her grazing but did not leave Eliana's side.

It was still early, and our next destination was close. We could spare a little while longer here, I decided, watching how the girl leaned back on her hands, head tilted to the sky. I liked her like this; Peaceful. Watching her, I could forget there were monsters in this world.

_ **~ Eliana ~** _

The cool morning breeze, warming under the sun's touch, whispered through the surrounding grass; mingled with the gentle tear and chew of the doe's grazing. There was another sound on the breeze, a whoosh, whoosh. I sat up from where I'd been leaning back, glancing towards the valley's steep walls. From the rocky plateau I made out a great bird swooping towards us at an alarming speed.

"Run!" I cried out to the doe, leaping to my feet as she bounded away. No sooner had she reached the tree line; a great force sent me flying sideways. I let out a surprised scream, pain shooting through my back as it connected hard with the ground. Overhead, silver flashed as Geralt's sword cut through the air, intercepting the flying beast. A piercing shriek echoed off the valley walls, going on and on inside my head. I gasped, my ears aching.

"Eliana get up, get into the trees!" Geralt's voice filtered through, urgent. The winged creature arced mid-air, out of reach of Geralt's blade, and for the first time I glimpsed its head.

It resembled a cockerel, but far more terrible. It shrieked again, opening its sharp beak, great wings sending the grass about me swaying. Scrambling to my feet, I made towards the trees and campsite as the creature swooped again. I looked back, heart slamming against my ribs as Geralt only just danced out of its way, swinging his blade at its long talons. It screamed, and I realised Geralt had cut it this time, but again, it flew out of his reach, those huge, yellow-rimmed, beady eyes watching his every move.

I'd reached the trees, and watched on, horrified as it swooped Geralt a second time, manoeuvring at the last moment to knock him with one of its heavy wings. He rolled in the grass, springing to his feet in time to swipe his silver sword up at the bird monster's underbelly. His teeth were grit, rage in his eyes as he dragged the point of his blade through its feathers. Blood sprayed down over him, the creature's shriek morphing into a high-pitched roar. It rose above Geralt's head, wings flapping hard, before pining them back in another dive. Again, he aimed at its underbelly, but this time, one of those sharp talons raked across his unprotected shoulder, drawing a deep line of blood.

The creature made to take off again, but Geralt had his free hand wrapped around its other leg. It shrieked, those sharp, black talons seeming to scratch at his arm, as it swept him off the ground. A gasp escaped me. I didn't know what to do! The bird beast would kill him if the fall did not. They now fought in the pale sky, level with the topmost branches of the trees. Geralt's blade glinted, only to disappear within the black feathers, and the creature let out a long, wailing scream, cancelling out all other sound. Then they were falling in a spiral of dark feathers.

With a great whumph, the beast hit the earth, Geralt somewhere beneath it. I was running towards them before Id drawn another breath, heart in my throat.

"Geralt!" My knees slammed into the churned-up grass and soil, searching under the dead beast for his body. Beneath a crumpled wing, I found his arm, blood smearing his pale skin where vicious talons still clung to it. "Geralt?" I pushed at the wing, sobbing from the effort to shift its impossible weight. Was he dead, goddess please no, don't let him be dead! There was a rumble of a groan, and the wing gave way, revealing his pale, blood splattered face.

**Author's Note:**

> Toss a kudo to your Witcher, if you enjoyed this chapter.  
Thoughts and questions welcome.


End file.
